


When We Talk, You Say It Softly

by martialartist816



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrinette, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Reveal, LadyNoir - Freeform, brief mention of injury, ladrien, love square
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-24 04:59:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17094368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/martialartist816/pseuds/martialartist816
Summary: Plagg begs Ladybug to save Chat Noir's life. When Marinette finds him, she thought she was prepared for whoever he may be. She never expected to recognize the face under his mask.Set after Glaciator





	When We Talk, You Say It Softly

**Author's Note:**

> [title taken from here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xXFdnHiGwos)

Marinette’s pencil eraser taps rhythmically against her homework. It’s the only sound in her room. Her free hand props up her head, elbow on the desk and a pile of unfinished assignments waiting impatiently next to her. The words on the page hardly register in her brain. Eyebrows drawn together, she drags her gaze up to the picture of Adrien Agreste that serves as her screen saver.

“You’ll never make up your late assignments at this rate, Marinette,” Tikki chirps in her ear. “You can’t let yourself get distracted.”

“I’m just worried.” Marinette drops the pencil in the seam of the open pages and scoots her wheeled chair away from the desk. A sigh pulls from her lungs. “Adrien didn’t come back to class after lunch break, and I just can’t help but think something bad has happened.”

“Well, he does have an obligation to his modeling career. Maybe he needed to do a shoot,” Tikki says.

“But I’d _know_ if he had a shoot.” Marinette rolls over to her calendar and flips through this week’s pages. This afternoon of Adrien Activities is completely empty. “There’s no reason he should have missed class.”

Tikki floats closer, frowning empathetically. “It could be anything. With how famous he and his father are, I’m sure they have important things to do sometimes.”

Marinette wants to believe her, and she would forget about the worry if her gut stopped twisting the way it is. Her stomach feels like it’s made of spaghetti. She nags her bottom lip with her teeth as the line between her eyebrows grows deeper. Her muscles refuse to relax the tension they’re holding in her arms and shoulders.

This isn’t missing her crush. This is concern for her friend.

Tikki’s dour expression doesn’t help.

“What’s the matter, Tikki?” Marinette swivels and cups both hands under her kwami.

Her eyes drift sideways. “It’s strange. I have an uneasy feeling too, but I don’t know why.”

“Does it also have something to do with Adrien?” Marinette isn’t sure she wants Tikki to say yes. That would only confirm the lurch in her stomach.

After a slight hesitation, Tikki nods. Marinette’s face falls. “I’m sorry, Marinette. I wish I knew why we were both feeling this way. My only guess is that maybe something bad is about to happen with an akuma.”

The words ‘akuma’ and ‘Adrien’ used in juxtaposition is enough for Marinette to shoot out of her chair. If Adrien has gotten himself akumatized, she doesn’t know if she’ll have the power to fight him. Best to act fast and prevent the chaos before it begins.

Marinette prays she isn’t too late.

“I wasn’t thinking about going on patrol tonight, but I’d rather go out now and prove myself wrong than sit here and risk being late for something that might have already started.” Marinette stands in the middle of her room, homework abandoned, and faces her kwami. “Tikki, spots—!”

“Tikki! Marinette!”

Both of them turn at the sound of a small, panicked voice. Marinette’s gaze lands on a small black object floating toward them. He has cat ears and a tail, and his bright green eyes are filled with fear.

“Plagg? What are you going here?” Tikki asks in appropriate confusion.

Marinette pieces together a little late that this tiny creature is another kwami like Tikki. It takes an even longer moment for her to understand that he is the kwami of the black cat.

“Chat Noir is in trouble!” Plagg stops in front of Tikki, his hands reached out pleadingly.

“What kind of trouble?” Marinette steps forward, still unsure of what exactly is going on. But she recognises the danger and feels genuine worry about Chat Noir’s safety. The pit in her gut only grows.

“He’s been badly hurt. I don’t know of anyone else who can help.” The sound of the kwami’s voice, the pain behind it, tugs at Marinette’s heart. It hurts just thinking about Chat Noir in any sort of mortal threat, and before she knows it, tears flood her eyes. Her partner, in grave danger, and she can’t help but feel like it’s her fault for not being on patrol sooner.

She’s felt all day as if something was off, as if something awful would happen. If she’d only listened to her instinct, Chat Noir wouldn’t be in pain.

“Take me to him now,” Marinette says to Plagg.

“Wait, Marinette,” Tikki urges, tugging on her sleeve. “If Plagg is here, then that means Chat Noir is his civilian self. You’ll know his identity!”

Marinette hesitates. She looks at where Tikki is still grabbing her sleeve. The kwami begs with her eyes. There’s something behind them that Marinette doesn’t recognize, a kind of hurt that Tikki doesn’t want to explain to her.

She looks back to Plagg. “Can we call an ambulance? Where is he? I’ll send paramedics there immediately.”

“There’s no way they could get to him without discovering his secret,” Plagg says, and it makes everything ten times worse. How badly is Chat Noir injured? “Please, there isn’t much time left. I know he trusts Ladybug with his identity. He trusts _you_ , Marinette. I wouldn’t have come here if he didn’t.”

Tikki lets go of Marinette and floats to Plagg. They lock onto each other’s eyes, communicating something Marinette can’t understand. When they both turn to face her, they’re holding hands. Tikki nods.

“Spots on!”

* * *

Of singular mind, Marinette leaps down through the gaping hole in the roof of the Agreste mansion. The damage stems from a subterranean floor, and the fall is a lot longer than Marinette expects. As she reaches the site of the apparent explosion, visibility diminishes to almost zero with all the dust and debris still clouding the air. Marinette coughs to dispel the tightness in her lungs—a discomfort that is matched only by the pit in her stomach the size of the opening in the roof. She can’t connect the dots yet.

She worries that Adrien and Mr. Agreste have also been hurt by whatever caused such a mess. Was Chat Noir trying to save them from this?

If anything, Marinette finally knows why Adrien had missed half a day of school, but seeing his home like this does absolutely nothing to make her feel better.

“Chat Noir!” she calls, making him her priority because Plagg looks lost and scared and it must be so, so bad. Once she gets her partner to safety, she can call an ambulance for the Agreste’s if they have indeed been hurt.

Walking forward cautiously through the dust, Marinette scans the area for signs of people. She can’t tell what kind of room she’s in. From the metal-grated floor and collapsed steel beams in her way, she knows it isn’t a typical family basement.

“He’s over here!” Plagg leads her to a pile of rubble.

Marinette dashes to him. Her eyes and throat sting from the dust, but also because she sees a head of blond hair through the haze. His body is lifeless, and once she’s close enough, she takes in the sight of two steel beams and a slab of drywall covering him. She kneels, her hand instinctively coming to push his hair away from his face.

His eyes are closed, but she knows if they were to open, she’d see the most beautiful green ocean.

She gasps. “Adrien…?”

Plagg floats close, hovering over Adrien’s head like a loyal puppy who refuses to leave his human’s side. Marinette glances at Plagg. He only looks at her apologetically.

Her fingers find a pulse in his throat. She leans down to listen for breathing and feels shallow, weak exhales against her ear. He’s alive, but unconscious, and his body under the rubble must be crushed and broken.

She doesn’t have time to think about it. She pushes all thoughts from her mind and allows her superhero instincts to take over. It’s better than panicking.

Right now, her partner in crime—an innocent civilian—needs her help, and it’s her job to help people.

On autopilot, Marinette slings her yo-yo across and overhead beam and ties the end of it to one of the structural pieces trapping Adrien. Better to remove the danger than risk hurting him more if she tries to drag him out. Lucky for her, the suit gives her enough strength to yank on the yo-yo like a pulley and hoist the heaviest pieces out of the way.

When she drops them on the floor to the side, a loud crash echoes in the room, and more debris falls from the walls and ruined ceiling. She has to act fast. The house is still completely unstable.

As gingerly as possible, Marinette lifts Adrien off the ground. He has scrapes and bruises already forming, and that’s just what she can see around his clothes. There’s no telling how many broken bones lie beneath the surface. But there isn’t a pool of blood on the floor, there aren’t any gaping wounds, and Marinette tells herself that’s a good sign.

A blurry figure catches Marinette off guard. Through the haze, she watches as someone bends to the floor and hoist another body off the ground. Marinette freezes when she recognizes the first person as Mr. Agreste’s assistant, and the body she’s holding belongs to Mr. Agreste. He’s also unconscious, and Nathalie looks a little worse for wear.

It happens so fast. Nathalie senses her presence and trains her gaze right on Marinette. Confusion, first, but then her eyes widen an instant later.

“Ladybug?” she asks, sounding like she never in a million years thought she’d see the superhero at this scene.

Nathalie’s eyes dart to Adrien in her arms. Thankfully, Plagg is already hidden, so this just looks like Ladybug is here to save someone in need.

But Marinette can’t stay and offer help. Something about the state of the house puts her on edge. She doesn’t know what on earth could have caused such an explosion, why it happened in this strange room under the mansion, or why Nathalie had stared at her like that.

She’s gone in a flash, making it to the roof in record time. The sun has set. Marinette looks down at the unconscious boy in her arms. He’s filthy from the dust. He’s still breathing. A tiny, barely-there groan sounds in his throat.

“Hang in there, Adrien,” she whispers.

Plagg emerges from his shirt. Marinette is forced into the realization that there is much more to the boy she’s holding than she ever thought possible.

“Thank you for saving his life,” he says quietly, solemnly. Then he floats up and pats her cheek gently. “It’ll all be okay.”

“I hope you’re right,” she says. “Until then, I need a safe and secret place to look after him.”

* * *

In exchange for a promise to spend an entire day with Chloé, Mayor Bourgeois gives Marinette one of his hotel rooms and a promise to not tell a soul that she’s staying there. “Anything for the hero of Paris and my sweet daughter’s best friend!” Marinette might come to regret her promise, but it’s worth the security that no one will bother her while she looks after Adrien.

She’d hidden Adrien on the roof of the hotel while she talked with the mayor. As soon as she’s alone in the room, she sneaks out of the window to bring him inside. Tenderly, she lies him on the bed and brushes the backs of her knuckles down his cheek. He looks so helpless, so battered, and she isn’t much better. Where can she go from here?

“Oh, Adrien… How did this happen?”

Marinette’s only option—no hospitals, no doctors, nothing—is to do what she can and make sure his body isn’t beyond repair. She musters everything she remembers from the first aid unit of health class. Infection is a real possibility, and her safest bet is to begin by cleaning off the cuts and scrapes. It would be hard to screw up if it’s just cleaning, right?

Armed with clean towels and unscented soap from the bathroom, Marinette goes to work wiping off Adrien’s cuts as gingerly as possible. The nastiest from what she can see is a deep cut across his eyebrow. It missed his eye by centimeters. Marinette fears it’ll cause a scar to form on his perfect face, and the weight of how just much is going to be different from now on finally settles in her heart.

She fights tears and focuses on his neck and arms. She knows Adrien will be okay—she _knows_ —but she had come so close to losing him today. And he is Chat Noir. If Plagg hadn’t come for her help, if she had been too late to save him, Marinette could have lost two of the most important boys in her life at the exact same time.

That’s all she can do for now. She slides to her knees on the floor next to the bed. The sheets feel soft where her head rests on them, face hidden, the fingers of one hand digging into the mattress. Her other hand slips into Adrien’s on its own. She clutches onto him, a failed savior of Paris.

The hand squeezes back, and a small moan of pain alters Marinette to Adrien’s wakefulness. She hovers over him once more, eyes wide and hopeful, still holding his hand.

Green eyes crack open and attempt to focus on her face. His breathing is more audible, though also much more labored as he regains consciousness. When he tries to move his arms, Marinette shushes him.

“Don’t move too much. You’re safe, Adrien,” she assures him.

“Ladybug…?” Adrien’s voice sounds like gravel, and it must feel just as bad. He raises one hand to his head, grimacing against what is probably a killer headache.

“There was an explosion,” she explains as calmly as possible. She doesn’t know how much he remembers. “I got you out. Right now, we're in Mayor Bourgeois’ hotel.”

There’s a moment where it seems like he’s mentally arranging the pieces, eyes drifting around the ceiling. But then his eyes go wide, and he shoots upright.

“My mother!” he gasps, then groans again from the sudden movement.

Marinette holds Adrien’s hand against her chest, eyebrows knitting together in concern. “Take it slow. You’re badly hurt.”

Adrien pauses. His panting breaths sound loud in the silence between them. His eyes close, and he nods calmly. When he gets his breathing under control, he raises one hand up to the cut in his forehead. His fingers pull away gently red from the dried blood.

“You saved me,” he says back, meeting her eyes. “Thank you, Ladybug.”

Marinette allows herself to smile, if only to try and comfort him. “I wouldn’t have been able to do it without Plagg.”

On cue, the kwami flies into Adrien’s line of vision and sighs in relief.

“You scared me half to death, kid.”

“Plagg, you…” Adrien trails off, swallows. Marinette can pinpoint the exact moment Adrien’s world stops. “Plagg!”

His gaze returns to Marinette’s again, frantic.

“It’s okay,” Marinette says, but just for him, because she still can’t wrap her head around it and doesn’t want to look weak in front of him. “He brought me to you to save your life. I know if I was in the same situation, I’d want my kwami to get you.”

Her gaze slides away shyly. Even in circumstances such as these, she can still blush at the thought of Adrien coming to save her.

But.

Adrien has already saved her countless times, hasn’t he? Chat Noir was always there for Marinette when she asked him to be. And she could never forget just how much she—as Ladybug—relies on Chat Noir to have her back.

“I’m sorry,” Adrien says in a quiet voice. “This isn’t how I wanted you to find out.”

Marinette looks at him. If he were in his suit, his black ears would droop.

She doesn’t know if she’s looking at the face of Chat Noir or Adrien Agreste. Right now, he just looks scared and hurt and small.

“What’s important is that you’re safe.” Marinette raises the hand she’s still holding and presses it against her cheek. She leans into the touch, his warm skin that is usually decorated in black gloves and long nails. Adrien’s thumb brushes back and forth. “We’ll figure this out the same as always.”

“As a team,” he finishes for her, and a smile breaks through the darkness.

“We should finish cleaning you up.” Marinette gestures to her meager sanitation supplies. “How are you feeling?”

“Paws-itively drained.”

Marinette indulges him with a laugh. “Your Chat Noir is showing. And I mean how do your injuries feel?”

Adrien inventories his body and winces when he accidentally touches tender spots. Worry creeps back up Marinette’s throat, and she prays that Adrien’s playfulness is a sign that his isn’t irreparably broken.

“It might be bad enough that I need to see a doctor,” Adrien admits.

“I was afraid so.” Maybe Adrien can keep his identity a secret from doctors now, but they would ask questions. Marinette has plenty of her own, starting with what on earth happened and why the Agrestes were in such a strange room. The authorities have to stay out of it until she knows more. “But I think I know what to do. Can you walk?”

Both of Adrien’s palms press into the mattress as he tries to hoist himself off. He doesn’t get very far before dropping back down with a labored sigh, like he’d been holding his breath. Marinette fights the urge to coddle.

“I don’t think so. Not immediately, at least.”

“I can go find some pain medication. Are you hurt anywhere else? I’ve been cleaning you off where I could see.” Marinette catches her bottom lip between her teeth.

“My chest and side are really sore,” Adrien says. He peels off his white button down, going slowly and frowning the whole time. Marinette hates to watch but knows there’s nothing she can do about it.

Adrien tries for his t-shirt, but jerks halfway through and takes in a sharp breath through his nose.

“I can’t lift my arms very high,” he says, defeated.

Marinette is perfectly resolved to let it be and wait until he’s feeling better, but then he looks up at her through dark eyelashes and adds, “Can you help me?”

A squeak wants to form in her throat, but Marinette swallows it. She can’t help the stutter, though.

“I-I certainly can. I mean, only if you want me to. It’s just that—you know, I wouldn’t want to make things weird. But it’s not weird. It’s just first aid. I—” She stops, sighs. “Yes, I can help.”

Adrien blushes, and that triggers the blood to rush to Marinette’s cheeks as well. She’s usually more confident as Ladybug, even around Adrien. Her stuttering is too much of a Marinette-ism, which she’s sure Adrien is already familiar with. She doesn’t need to embarrass herself _and_ reveal her identity to him in the same swoop.

She kneels on the bed to get close enough. Her gloved fingers clutch the dark fabric of Adrien’s shirt at the sides, and—carefully, slowly—she lifts it over his head. His hair ruffles and falls back down around his face when the shirt is off.

Marinette doesn’t think about how it’s a dream come true. No, it’s actually a nightmare, because that is a frightening black and purple bruise running the length of his torso. It starts at the center of his chest and tapers down all the way to the last of his ribs on the side, splotchy and darkest in the middle.

She takes in an involuntary gasp, unable to even comprehend how much pain Adrien is in. Adrien looks down and surveys the damage. His eyebrows draw together, and he brushes his fingertips along the edge of the bruise.

Plagg pats his cheek sympathetically. Adrien holds up a hand for his kwami, trying what looks like a reassuring smile.

“I’m sorry, kid,” Plagg says.

“It’s not your fault,” Adrien promises. “Nothing a little tender love and care can’t fix.”

He glances at Marinette when he says it, and she holds Adrien’s shirt closer to her chest like a shield against another blush forming on her cheeks.

“Does anything feel broken?” she tries instead.

“It’s hard to tell right now. If yes, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Marinette finds herself staring at the bruise on Adrien’s chest. She watches how his ribs expand and contract, but only barely, like it’s painful to breathe properly. If she could steal his agony away from him and shoulder it for herself, she would.

Her eyes drift up to where more scrapes mark his skin along his collarbone. Leaning forward, Marinette takes the cleaning towel and gently wipes the cuts. It’s all she can do, and it’s not much.

“I know of a healer who might be able to help. And he already knows about us, so he’s safe to trust with our secrets.”

Adrien is understandably surprised by that. “What do you mean he knows about us? Who is it?”

Marinette just smiles. “If my suspicions are correct, then you’ve already met him. But we can’t go to him until you’re good enough to walk,” she says, cutting off any more questions Adrien might have.

She stands from the bed. “I’ll go out and find that pain medication for you. In the meantime, I think you should try and clean yourself up properly so you don’t risk getting sick.”

Adrien gets as far as scooting himself to the edge of the bed. When he tries to stand, he falls back immediately, strained.

“Don’t push yourself. Here—” Marinette slides her arms around him, mindful of where it hurts. She has him under the knees and behind his back as she carefully lifts him up. Adrien makes an attempt to wrap his arm around her shoulders, but he thinks better of moving too much and allows himself to be carried.

Mercifully, the bathroom has a tub.

Marinette settles Adrien down on the lip of it. His fingers wrap around the edge on either side of him.

“Plagg can help you while I’m gone, but I shouldn’t be long.” Marinette resists the instinct to run her fingers through Adrien’s golden hair, if to make him feel better or herself.

Adrien will be safe in the room. No one knows he's here aside from Marinette. She wants to keep him like the secret his is, safe and warm and tucked away out of danger.

When she gets back, she’ll have to ask him if he knows why this mess even happened in the first place, and if his injuries were actually caused by accident.

“I’ll be back soon,” she bids as she turns to exit.

A hand catches hers. “Ladybug, wait—“

Adrien tugs her back to him with more strength than it seemed he could muster. Marinette has no say when she spins back around and finds herself locked in a kiss with Adrien, his free hand on her cheek.

At first, her eyes are wide. But it’s a miracle she sustains the autonomy to close them and kiss back.

She compares it to the only other kiss she’s shared in her lifetime. Like when she kissed Chat to release him from an akuma’s spell, this kiss feels like home, feels like her best friend.

When she pulls away, Adrien is unbelievably, adorably red. He ducks his head.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “I just wanted to say thank you. And so much more.”

Marinette’s surprise softens into something more serene.

“I heard it all.”

As Marinette dashes across rooftops to get home, she is forced to remember that Chat Noir is in love with Ladybug, and that means Adrien Agreste is too.

* * *

Marinette burglarizes her own home when she raids the medicine cabinet for pain killers and anything else that might be helpful. She takes a bottle of bacitracin and a roll of medical gauze. She’s no expert, so she prays that it’ll be enough.

As she’s gathering the supplies, Tikki hovers over her shoulder.

“Do you want to talk about it?” the kwami asks quietly so Marinette’s sleeping parents down the hall remain unawares.

Marinette’s hand pauses above where she’s been packing a duffel bag. She then sighs and resumes her task.

“I haven’t finished processing it yet. There’s so much…”

“You’re handling it well,” Tikki assures.

“He was right under my nose the whole time. How could I have been so blind? I never even considered the possibility.”

All those nights spent patrolling the streets with Chat Noir, the battles, the near-misses, the flirting… Marinette tries to rearrange her memories to replace Adrien’s face with Chat Noir’s, and it feels off. She wonders which side of him is the real one.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Tikki interrupts her train of thought scheduled for self-destruction. “Just like Ladybug and Marinette are the same person, Adrien and Chat Noir are part of the same whole. Adrien can be brave and bold like Chat, and Chat can be reserved and quiet just like Adrien.”

“And he _likes_ me. Well, he likes Ladybug.” Marinette can’t tell if that’s a win or a lose.

“ _You are_ Ladybug.”

Marinette looks at her, unconvinced.

“Let me put it this way,” Tikki goes on, “do you love him any less because you found out he’s Chat?”

“No.”

“Even though you didn’t love Chat?”

“That’s different. I did like Chat to a degree. But Adrien doesn’t like Marinette. If he found out about me, he’d be so bummed that Ladybug is just plain, nervous Marinette.”

“I don’t think it’s different at all, Marinette. And you’re not ‘just plain’. You’re super, and Adrien already knows it!”

Tikki is beaming at her. Marinette smiles back and holds the kwami against her cheek for a gentle hug.

“Thanks for believing in me, Tikki,” she whispers.

Once everything is packed, Marinette transforms back into her braver persona and goes back to Adrien.

She finds him on the couch of the hotel room, dressed in his pants and t-shirt. The tattered white button down is forgotten on the bed. He wears a fluffy towel over his damp hair.

“Adrien, you made it from the bathroom!” Given the distance between the two, he must have regained the ability to at least walk on his own. “How do you feel?”

Marinette leaves the bag next to the couch and crouches down to dig for the ibuprofen.

“Better now that you’re here. Plagg is insufferable to be alone with.” Adrien glares pointedly at his kwami.

Despite herself, Marinette giggles. She hands off some medication to Adrien, who looks all too greedy to swallow it down.

“Hey, the only reason you made it out of the bathroom was because of me,” Plagg protests, then to Marinette, “He relies on me for motivation.”

“That’s not the right word for it,” Adrien counters. “You’re less of a motivator than you are a drill sergeant.”

“Are you two always like this?” Marinette asks, amused.

“We are. I can never escape from his laziness and sass. And his horrendous taste in cheese.”

Plagg makes a sound of disgruntlement. “Camembert is a delicacy.”

Adrien looks to Marinette and gestures at the kwami as if to say ‘see what I have to deal with?’

“It’s because of you that I always smell like a locker room.” At that Plagg looks all too pleased with himself. Adrien returns his gaze to Marinette, soft again. “I hope you and your kwami get along better.”

“We do,” Marinette answers before she can stop to think if she’s giving too much away. “She’s one of my best friends.”

“Aww,” Plagg says. “Why can’t you say nice things like that about me?”

Adrien rolls his eyes, but there’s an undeniable joy in his smile. He must be feeling much better. Once the medication kicks in, he’ll hopefully be ready to travel. Until then, Marinette busies herself with applying the bacitracin and bandages to Adrien’s larger cuts. The one on his eyebrow has stopped bleeding. She leans close to his face to adhere the bandage, focusing on her fingers rather than the hole Adrien is burning into her face. She can feel him staring at her, just watching, maybe trying to see if he knows her civilian self.

“I think you were born to be Ladybug,” Adrien murmurs out of nowhere.

Marinette retracts her hands, eyes meeting Adrien’s. “What?”

“Sorry,” Adrien pushes out, suddenly aware of himself. He tentatively raises a hand and rests his fingers on Marinette’s cheek, right under the red of her mask. “It’s just that—your freckles. They remind me of the ladybug spots.”

“Oh…” Marinette breathes intelligently. “Lucky coincidence?” She laughs.

“Maybe it’s fate. I like to think of it as that, anyway.”

This is the same boy who used to bring her roses for no special occasion, the same cat who purred when she got near, who valued her safety over his own. Marinette always dreamed that Adrien was as romantic as she is, and now she links all the advances that Chat Noir has made on her in the past to the person sitting in front of her.

It’s still so much to wrap her head around.

“What about you?” she asks. “Do you feel like it was fate that you were given the cat miraculous?”

Adrien’s hand and gaze fall at the same time. “I don’t know. It feels more like luck on my end. I jumped at the chance to have this power so I could pretend I was someone else, someone more in control of his life. When I’m not Chat Noir, I’m usually locked in my room. Plagg gives me the opportunity to escape. Sometimes literally. When we became heroes, it really felt like a miracle.” He looks fondly at the kwami still floating close by.

Marinette frowns. She never thought about that until now, how Adrien’s father is so strict, so controlling. Marinette uses her power because she feels like it’s her duty. Adrien uses it because it’s the only way to be free. Maybe the role of superhero is much more important to Adrien than it is to her. It’s almost like… he needs it.

“Sounds pretty _miraculous_ if you ask me,” Marinette tries.

Adrien laughs, the sun burns through the clouds. “Are you stealing my jokes?”

“Just borrowing.” Marinette straightens herself out and offers a hand. “Do you think you’re ready to go?”

Adrien takes her hand and slowly gets to his feet. The towel falls around his shoulders, and he tests out a few arm movements before nodding. “As long as we aren’t running the length of the city, I think I’ll be okay.”

“Plagg might be able to make it a little easier for you.” Marinette points to the kwami.

“Might?” Plagg chirps, his little arms crossing in defiance. “With me helping, you’ll be like ‘what near death experience?’”

“If you say so. Alright, Plagg, claws out!”

Marinette’s last shred of ‘maybe this is all a dream’ fades away the instant she sees the flash of green light. Where Adrien was standing, Chat Noir now takes his place, head to toe in black except for the mess of blond hair on his head. The paradigm shifts. Everything feels familiar once again to see Chat standing there with his easy smile. Like they were on any other normal mission.

But she knows who is under that mask, what injuries are under his suit, and the illusion is gone.

* * *

They comb the Parisian rooftops slowly and cautiously. Leaping and bounding is hardly an option with the state Adrien is in. He relies on his staff as a walking stick, and he uses it as a bridge between buildings.

Master Fu’s home isn’t far, thankfully. It isn’t until they reach his window that Marinette considers he is probably asleep at such a late hour. But he is their only option, so she prepares herself for the possibility of him waking with a heart attack and slips into his home.

They’ve entered the room where Master Fu once healed Tikki. Marinette looks around as her eyes adjust to the dark. It’s empty, until the door slides open and reveals the old man holding a candle.

“Master Fu!” Marinette greets him. He’s wearing a long pajama robe that goes down to his slipper-clad feet and a cap on his head. He blinks tiredly at her, but the recognition is there. “Oh, I’m sorry! Did we wake you?”

Master Fu shakes his head with a smile. “Wayzz alerted me of your presence. Is there something I can help you two with?”

Both he and Marinette glance at Adrien, listening to the gears in his head squeaking loudly.

“Chat Noir needs to be healed. Can you help him like you helped Tikki?” Marinette pleads.

“I will see what I can do.” Fu crosses the room and lights more candles. The glow spreads to all corners. “But I will need to take a close look at him.”

He’s looking at Marinette when he says it, and she picks up on the implication.

“He can de-transform in front of me. I already know who he is.” She throws Adrien a reassuring smile.

Master Fu is silent for a stretch of time, plaintive. After coming to some mental understanding, he nods once and folds his hands behind himself. “I see. I will make some tea, and while that is heating, you can tell me everything that’s happened.”

Adrien’s eyes follow the master as he strides over to the kettle and begins preparing the tea. His gaze then fixes on the small green kwami flying next to him.

“I think I remember you,” Adrien says slowly.

“Oh, yes?” Fu glances over his shoulder, a wise and equally devilish smile on his face that Marinette is already familiar with.

“I helped you when you fell in front of my school. You—You’re one of us?”

Marinette stands next to him and rests a hand on his shoulder. When Adrien looks at her, she smiles again and nods.

“Indeed,” Fu confirms.

Adrien has everything he needs to trust the master. With confidence, he de-transforms. As the suit comes off, his posture deteriorates, and Marinette’s ears tune in to the subtle change in the way he breathes. He’s in pain again. Whatever strength the suit gave him to come here is gone now. Marinette fears that having him move around so much put him in a worse state than he was before.

Adrien sits in the middle of the floor. Plagg flies over to Wayzz, talking in a low tone that Marinette can’t hear. She wonders if Tikki would enjoy seeing her fellow kwamis again, and she wishes she could de-transform to make it possible.

“Everything started when I went home for lunch break this afternoon,” Adrien says, staring at the mat he’s sitting on.

Master Fu listens to the story without interrupting, without even changing expressions. He just takes the information in and processes it.

Marinette, on the contrary, is horrified by what she hears.

Adrien tried to talk to his father about attending a field trip that upcoming weekend. Mr. Agreste refused to listen to him, saying he was busy with work, and swiftly left the room. While Adrien is used to his father’s flakiness, this trip was something he really looked forward to, and he just needed a signature for the permission slip. It wouldn’t have taken more than a second.

He followed his father into the room where he does his designing. Mr. Agreste must not have heard Adrien following him, but Adrien saw from the door as his father disappeared behind a hidden panel in the wall. He followed him even down there, to a room in the house he didn’t know existed.

The room was massive and dark. It looked like it was meant to hold something enormous, but the only thing Adrien found in it was a white cylindrical tube at the end of a long catwalk. His father stood next to the human-sized object, under a spotlight, his hand resting mournfully over it.

Adrien ran down the catwalk to confront his father, but all his anger vanished the second he saw what was inside the contraption.

His mother.

His mother who had been missing. He had thought maybe she was dead, but there she was, frozen in time and unaware of how close her son was to her.

Mr. Agreste saw Adrien approaching and went on the offensive. He yelled at his son for sneaking around. Adrien asked, begged, demanded answers, but his father refused to give them.

“He sounded scared. And hurt,” Adrien said.

He knew his father loved his mother, but he didn’t know why he was keeping this a secret. He could have at least explained what he was doing. Adrien gave him the chance to tell his side, but again—nothing.

Adrien halts.

His hand clenches into a fist, and he takes in a deep breath. Master Fu brings over cups of hot tea and doesn’t ask him to continue his story. After a sip of the warm drink, he seems able to start again.

“I was so angry,” he says, sounding small. “All the years of my father being so stubborn with me, never explaining why he does the things he does, he at least owed me the truth about my mother. He said I wouldn’t understand, that I was just a child. I was so mad and confused and hurt that I… I just—the words just slipped out and…”

Marinette rests her hand on his knee when she hears him struggling. He squeezes his eyes shut against tears, and his voice goes rough. She wants to tell him it’s okay.

“I transformed right in front of him and used my cataclysm to destroy the entire room.”

Marinette draws in a gasp. Master Fu is silent.

“I didn’t mean to collapse half of my house,” Adrien continues. “I don’t even know what I meant to do. It just hurt so much, and I didn’t know what else to do. I messed up, Ladybug. No amount of lucky charms can undo what I’ve done.”

“It’s not your fault, Adrien…” Marinette says in a quiet voice.

When Adrien opens his eyes to look at her, tears roll down his cheeks. “You can’t say that and honestly believe it. My identity is no longer a secret because of me.”

Marinette falters. “I mean—” _I don’t know what I mean_. “No one would expect you to handle seeing your missing mother very well. Like you said, you were angry—” _In so much pain_. “I can only imagine the emotional turmoil you must have felt in those short moments. In your shoes… I probably would have done the same thing.”

She reaches up to catch the droplets falling down Adrien’s face.

Adrien is quiet, like he’s trying to decide if he can believe that.

“There’s more,” he says at last. Marinette and Master Fu both lean closer. “I think my father might be Hawkmoth.”

Marinette draws in a sharp breath through her nose, afraid just of hearing the name.

“That is a serious accusation,” Fu warns. “On what basis do you build that assumption?”

“I don’t know.” Adrien’s eyes cast downward, brows furrowed. “It’s more like a feeling. When he was yelling at me in that cellar, everything around me felt so… evil. The way he spoke to me reminded me of how Hawkmoth taunts us.”

Marinette wants it to be false. She wants Master Fu to laugh and tell Adrien he’s being foolish. She pictures Mr. Agreste in her mind, world famous fashion designer and her own personal idol. Sure, he seems cold and distant, but can he really be evil? Then again, Mr. Agreste is rarely seen in public, and no one really knows what he does in his free time.

If anyone knew how possible it is for him to be a supervillain, it would be the closest person to him. His own son.

“We cannot be sure of it until we have proof,” Master Fu states. Marinette stares at him with wide eyes. “But I am inclined to believe your suspicions. If Hawkmoth is indeed your father, your father who now knows the identity of Chat Noir, then it would be wise to stay away from him until we are certain that he is _not_ after your miraculous.”

Marinette swallows. “When I rescued Adrien, I saw Mr. Agreste unconscious in the wreckage. His assistant pulled him to safety, but I don’t think he got away unscathed. If he is Hawkmoth, then it’ll be a while before he heals and can akumatize more people.”

“That gives Adrien time to heal,” Master Fu says, “and all of us time to decide how to proceed from here.”

Both Marinette and Adrien are quiet. Marinette holds her cooling tea, untouched, with both hands as she stares at the floor.

Master Fu smiles softly and places a hand on each of their shoulders.

“You are too young to wear faces so grim. Ladybug, go home and rest. Adrien can stay hidden here with me, and I will have him healed by the next time you see him.”

“Thank you, Master Fu.”

When Marinette stands, her limbs feel like lead. The exhaustion from the day has finally caught up with her. While she is hesitant to leave Adrien’s side, she knows he’s in capable hands. She shuffles to the window, and before leaving, she steals a glance at Adrien. He meets her eyes and nods, communicating all that she needs to hear.

She leaps from the window, wondering if her busy mind will even let her sleep tonight.

* * *

Tikki all but forces Marinette to attend class. She wakes to the little kwami tugging at her hair, warning that she’ll be late. Marinette asks what the point of going to class is when it feels like her entire world is falling apart. Tikki only frowns at her until Marinette gives in and gets ready for the day.

Well, attending class is one thing. Actually paying attention and learning the material is a separate battle, one which Marinette loses before it even begins.

Adrien’s empty chair is so loud. Class goes on without anybody questioning where he might be. Even having disappeared under mysterious circumstances the day before, everyone is individually content with guessing that Adrien just had important modeling things to do. Important things that last over a day, apparently.

Marinette is consistently terrible at answering questions. Ms. Bustier gives up calling on her after the fifth failed attempt. At lunch, Alya expresses her concern, but all Marinette can give is a half-hearted excuse that she hadn’t slept well.

When the final bell rings, Marinette shoots out of the classroom door with her bag barely hanging off her shoulder.

She has Master Fu’s home in her sights, nearly desperate to know if Adrien has been fixed up. All she needs to do is find a secure place to transform.

“Slow down there, girl.”

Alya catches Marinette by the wrist and stops her just before she leaves through the school’s front door.

“For someone who didn’t sleep well, you sure can run fast,” Alya laughs as she takes in a few breaths, apparently winded from chasing Marinette. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I, uh…” Marinette wrings the strap of her school bag between her hands. “I need to go study. I mean, you saw me in there. Gotta make up for all the terrible marks on in class assignments I got today.”

“You were pretty off in there, more than usual. Well, studying has to wait. I’m taking you out for ice cream and shopping,” Alya says in that tone that she’s already made her mind up about it.

Any other day—any other day besides _today_ —Marinette would love to spend time with her best friend. But she can’t. And she’s already spinning excuses in her head for why she has to raincheck like all the other times she’s ditched Alya because of her Ladybug duties.

“I can’t, Alya. Not today.” There are a thousand apologies in Marinette’s tone. Apologies, and urgency. “I really need to finish this homework.”

“You can finish it when we go home tonight. I won’t keep you out _forever_.” Alya makes a move to take Marinette’s arm and walk out of the school, but Marinette stands her ground and shakes her head.

“But tonight I, um, have to help my parents with a catering order. Can’t we just go out this weekend?” she begs.

First promising to hang out with Chloé as Ladybug, now promising Alya a day just for the two of them. Everything would be much less complicated if everyone knew her identity. She’d no longer have to lie to Alya, her teachers, her _parents_ , about why she sneaks out, misses class, and rarely has any free time. If they knew she is Ladybug, they would understand the responsibilities she has.

But for the same reason Adrien now has to hide, Marinette must continue to dance around daily life.

“I guess we can postpone,” Alya says, frowning. “I’m just worried about you. You’re acting extra anxious today, and I’m hoping there’s not something wrong that you’re not telling me.”

“You are my best friend, Alya,” Marinette places a hand on her shoulder. “I tell you everything.”

It hurts to lie like that, but lies to protect the people she cares about are necessary. That makes it okay. Right?

Alya hesitates, then pulls Marinette into a hug. “I know you do, girl. Now go on and study your butt off. And get some sleep for crying out loud!”

Marinette waves as she runs off, deciding to stop at home and make an appearance so her parents know their daughter is still functioning more or less normally. She snatches some food from the kitchen and requests that she isn’t disturbed for dinner because “equations aren’t going to balance themselves!”

Sealed away in her room, Marinette can finally talk to Tikki.

“Today felt like it lasted forever,” she grumbles in exasperation. She sinks into her desk chair, eyes following Tikki.

“Minutes always seem longer when you’re worried about something,” Tikki agrees.

“There’s just so much to think about, so much that’s changed. My mind doesn’t even know where to begin.” Adrien as Chat, his secret being compromised, the cataclysm that nearly killed him, the possibility that their greatest enemy is his father—all of it. Too much.

“But you’re handling the stress well. You were there for Adrien when he needed it the most, and your quick thinking is what got him to Master Fu to be healed.”

“It doesn’t feel like I’m handling anything well.” Marinette drops her head into her hands. “It seems so unfair for Adrien. His secret’s been exposed to more than one person, his home is destroyed… He found his mom just for her to still be out of his reach. Oh, Tikki, I don’t even know how hard that is for him.”

Marinette would take it all off his shoulders. But she couldn’t prevent him from getting hurt, she can’t rebuild a house. She doesn’t even know if she can save his mother, much less how she would, and what good is a superhero if she can’t protect innocent people?

“You don’t need to fix everything by yourself,” Tikki says softly, stroking her hair. “No one expects you to be perfect, not even Adrien. He knows how much you care. It’s your willingness to help even when you don’t know how that counts. He can see that you’re trying.”

“You and Adrien both have more confidence in me than I have in myself.” Marinette slowly lifts her head.

Tikki smiles. “That’s because we already know how super you are.”

Marinette finds herself smiling back and stands. “Come on. There’s a stray kitten that needs our attention.”

* * *

The yo-yo rings on Marinette’s way back to Master Fu’s. She halts on a roof and stares at Chat Noir’s caller I.D. If he is calling her yo-yo, then he’s in his suit. And that must mean he’s feeling better.

That, or it’s an emergency.

“Chat Noir,” she says when she answers, almost stumbling over Adrien’s real name. Even though it seems she’s alone on the roof, she must remain careful for any curious eyes and ears. “Are you okay?”

“I’m purrfect, m’lady. Master Fu has me all patched up.”

“That’s great!” A real relief from the pressure surrounding her heart. “Are you still there? I’m already on my way back.”

“Negative. I left a few hours ago. In fact, I have my eyes on you right now.”

Marinette scans the horizon in a 360 turn. She sees absolutely no one, but a thrill runs down her spine.

She grins. “Oh, do you? How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Just one. And it’s your pinky.”

Marinette spins around again, wondering how he can be close enough to see her pinky, yet far enough to remain undetected. She hears Adrien laugh.

“Does Plagg give you enhanced vision too?”

“It’s one of my many purrks.”

Marinette rolls her eyes, but the smile stays. “Are you going to show yourself, or are you going to make me come and hunt you down?”

“I think we both know who the real hunter in this cat-and-bug game is. But instead of coming to find me, how about you race me to the top of the Eiffel Tower?”

“I have conflicting feelings about racing someone with injuries.”

“Aww, are you worried about me?”

“Not about you, but I am worried about how easy it’ll be to win.”

On the other end, Adrien scoffs. “And what if you lose?”

“In your dreams, kitty. You’re on!”

Before giving him the chance to respond, Marinette ends the call and dashes off in the direction of the tower. Two blocks over, she sees a black blur matching her pace and gaining.

She smirks and speeds up.

When it comes to climbing the massive structure, the yo-yo gives her an advantage. Its rope is a fraction faster than Adrien’s staff, and Marinette reaches the highest level of the Eiffel Tower before two black ears even pop into view.

They collapse on their butts together, catching their breath and laughing in between.

“So there isn’t a miracle that Master Fu can’t perform,” Marinette muses when she’s finally cooled enough to speak.

Adrien stands in front of her and offers a hand. She takes it to stand, and they move to sit on the edge of the railing. Their legs dangle precariously above the earth.

“I felt like new in no time,” Adrien confirms. “He taught me a lot about our powers in the hours I was there. He told me about that book.”

“The one your father has,” Marinette connects.

“Yes.”

“Do you still suspect him of being… you know?”

Marinette gazes up at him, taking in his profile. She’s better at blending the two boys together now. She can see Adrien under the black mask and messy hair.

Adrien frowns. “There are lots of reasons, including that book, that I still do.”

Comforting words abandon Marinette. What can she say to tell him—no, his dad isn’t evil? Even she kind of believes it.

Shyly, she remembers there is something she can do to make him feel better.

Maybe it’s a little selfish of her, but she reaches her hand to Adrien’s cheek and turns their faces toward each other. Her fingertips slide down to his jaw as she kisses him.

He moves against her immediately. His hand comes to rest on the side of her arm, and his head tilts to the side in a need to get closer. Marinette answers that need with her own and deepens the kiss, relying completely on instinct.

But it feels good, being close to Adrien like this, him wanting her back. Guilt gnaws in the back of her throat, but she swallows it down like she swallows Adrien’s tongue and holy cow, where did that come from?

Her fingers find purchase in his hair. He makes a sound that has her whole body flaring with heat, and suddenly it’s overwhelming. When she breaks the kiss, she doesn’t go far. Her forehead makes contact with Adrien’s, and they stay like that for a moment. Her lips are already wet, but she still runs her tongue over them nervously. She likes how they taste now.

“Wow,” Adrien breathes reverently. Marinette must be as red as her suit from ears to neck.

She still has no words, nothing to convey how she feels or how badly she wants Adrien to be safe and happy. She manages a sheepish smile and moves to press the side of her body up against Adrien’s. He looks down at her, but her eyes are fixed on the horizon and the setting sun in front of them. Adrien’s arm comes around her shoulders, and she snuggles closer.

“Can I ask you something?” Adrien asks quietly after a beat.

“Of course,” Marinette answers.

“I can’t help but notice that you’ve been a lot closer with me after you found out my identity,” he says. “I’m just curious as to why?”

Marinette should have seen it coming, but like with apparently every aspect of her life, she was oblivious.

“I’m sorry,” she says.

Adrien tenses against her, prompting her to sit up straight and look at his face. There’s fear in his eyes, and it takes her a long second to realize he thinks her apology is for the kiss.

“You used to never accept Chat Noir’s feelings. I’m confused.”

“I don’t blame you,” Marinette mumbles. “From my perspective, I didn’t know I was sending mixed signals until you mentioned it. The truth is… there’s something I need to tell you.”

Adrien takes in a breath, preparing for the worst. Marinette almost blurts it out just so he doesn’t have to wait in agony.

“Do you remember when I told you I couldn’t accept Chat Noir’s feelings because I’m in love with someone else?”

Adrien nods.

“That someone is—“ He deserves to know. “Adrien.”

Marinette watches his face, locks onto his eyes to try and read his thoughts. He blinks, then breaks into the biggest grin Marinette has ever seen.

“That is unbelievable,” he laughs. “I mean, it’s crazy, isn’t it? What are the odds?”

“I thought it was pretty ironic when I first found out.” Marinette shrugs with a smile. How could she have gotten so lucky? The boy she loves actually loves her back. It’s almost perfect.

“For how long?” Adrien asks.

“Since the day after I met you,” Marinette answers automatically.

“That’s so…” Adrien laughs again, then blinks, “specific.”

The best Marinette can offer is a smile and another shrug.

Adrien stares at her again, this time trying to connect the dots that Marinette unwittingly threw at him.

“Wait—have I met your civilian self?”

Marinette has no power to deny him the truth. She may have opened her mouth too wide on accident, but she can’t bare to let things remain so one-sided between them.

So she nods.

The way Adrien looks at her changes. Now he’s trying to mentally remove her mask and see if he recognizes what lies underneath. Marinette doesn’t know if she wants him to figure it out or not.

“Did we meet before or after we became heroes?”

“Before.”

“You’re not making this any easier,” Adrien teases.

“Well, where’s the fun in it being easy?” Marinette counters, laughing.

A hand comes up to cup her cheek, thumb stroking her skin. Beneath the glove, Marinette feels his warmth.

“I’m sorry I took so long,” Adrien whispers, “to see you.”

“It’s not your fault. In fact, I should be saying the same to _you_. All this time... Everything I wanted was right in front of me.” She leans into his hand, smiling softly.

“We can finally put an end to all this confusion,” Adrien says. “I understand why you’re hesitant to allow us to know about each other. If it hadn’t been for that emergency, you wouldn’t even know who I am right now.”

She’s heard this song and dance before, and a growing pit in her stomach causes her to turn her head away, out of Adrien’s reach. “Chat Noir…”

“Are you afraid of what I’ll think when I see the real you?”

The question brings to life one of her biggest insecurities, and she could have gone without having to hear it from Adrien’s own voice.

“Yes,” she admits, then quickly adds, “but that isn’t the only reason—”

“Can I tell you something private that I’ve only ever told Plagg before?”

Marinette stares into his unwavering confidence, a trait that is so Chat Noir that it goes hand in hand with green eyes and a tail. He always wants her, no matter what. She lets herself hope that maybe he’ll still want her when he learns her name.

“Of course,” she says.

“‘Whoever that girl is, I love her’.”

Marinette pulls her shoulders up shyly, certain that the blush will return to her cheeks. Adrien smiles adoringly. As he moves to stand, he places a soft kiss on her forehead.

It takes Marinette’s brain a second to boot back up, and when it does, she gets to her feet and stops him from leaving by grabbing his wrist.

“Wait, where are you going?” she asks.

“I need to go check on my father,” Adrien says. “And my house. It’s been over a day since I’ve been home.”

“But—” Marinette’s grip on him tightens. “Do you really think it’s wise to go back?”

“I know things are different now, that I can’t go back to how life used to be.” Adrien’s smile turns sad, and Marinette regrets having to remind him. “I won’t stay. I just need to see it.”

“Where will you go after?”

Their options are limited to Master Fu’s home—which Marinette and probably Adrien would hate to impose on his generosity—and the hotel room on loan from the mayor—which can’t last forever.

“I could go home with you,” Adrien offers, and Marinette knows without having to look at him that he’s serious.

“I don’t think I’m ready.” She squeezes him again, then releases. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry for anything, Ladybug.” Adrien leaps up onto the railing and looks over his shoulder. “I’ll call you as soon as I’m done.”

When he jumps, he overshadows the setting sun, and for just a moment, he’s a glint of light.

* * *

Marinette has half a mind to follow him. Too many things can go wrong with his return home, namely his father being there and confronting him about his secret. Until she is certain that Mr. Agreste is trustworthy, she won’t like the idea of Adrien trying to make things as they were.

She keeps herself from following Adrien, but the few hours that she waits feel like an eternity. She doesn’t go home either. As much as she’d love to de-transform and talk to Tikki, she can’t risk being out of her suit in case Adrien calls for help.

The night is uneventful. It seems cruel that there aren’t akumas—there aren’t even normal cases in which someone needs to be saved—on the night when Marinette has so much time on her hands, on patrol, ready to jump into action whenever action calls. Emergencies seem to happen only when it’s hard for her to escape daily life.

The second the yo-yo rings, Marinette pounces on it.

“Chat Noir!”

“Don’t sound so bugged-out, m’lady.”

Marinette sighs in relief. “What took so long? Did you see your father?”

“I did,” he says with a tonal shift that Marinette doesn’t like. “I packed a few of my things from home. It looks like—It looks like I won’t be able to return home after all.”

“I’m so sorry, Chat… What happened?”

“Can we meet? I’d rather explain it all in person. And I want to get away from here as soon as possible. Where are you?”

“Rue Des Barres.”

Marinette worries at her bottom lip, and in the short amount of time it takes Adrien to find her, she manages to think up just about all worst-case-scenarios that could have happened at the Agreste mansion while she wasn’t there.

When Adrien lands next to her, she eyes the bag of his belongings that he has slung over his shoulder. It breaks her heart.

“Was it that bad?” she asks in a small voice.

“He didn’t look angry,” Adrien answers, “which is a first if I’ve ever seen one.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s usually always so grumpy, even when I’ve done nothing but listen to his instructions and do everything I’m supposed to do. I thought for sure he’d be boiling with rage for keeping such a big secret from him. And for sneaking out all the time.”

“But…?” Marinette prompts with not too much hope because she can’t bear to think that maybe things will be alright.

Adrien sighs. “But he was sad. He said it hurt him more than the house falling on top of him to think about if something bad were to happen to me because of my being Chat Noir.”

“That’s not… awful, right? He’s as concerned as any father should be.”

“He told me to abandon being Chat Noir.” Adrien’s eyes close, and his lips draw downwards at the corners. His voice drops to a whisper like quieting his voice would make it so he’s not afraid of the words. “He asked me to give him my miraculous, Ladybug.”

Marinette gasps. She knows how the conversation ended because Chat Noir is still standing here in front of her, but her eyes involuntarily drop down to the ring on Adrien’s finger.

“I know it might be hard to hear,” Marinette starts, finding her words, “but you made the right choice.”

She cups Adrien’s cheek, and he meets her gaze. For the millionth time in just the past few days, Marinette can’t begin to fathom what he must be feeling, what insecurities and fears must be swirling in his head. For the millionth-and-tenth time, she wishes she could do something—anything—to take that pain away from him.

In Adrien’s green eyes, she sees confusion, someone much younger than Chat Noir always looked. He looks lost. But he watches her face like an anchor, and Marinette can almost feel something physically holding her to him, like he has the power to lock them side by side with just one look.

She wants to ask where he’s going to go, but that lock is what provides her the answer.

Her hand slides down, and she laces their fingers together.

“Come on,” she says.

“Where are we going?” Adrien follows without hesitation.

“Somewhere safe,” she promises, and tugs him in the direction of home.

* * *

This was inevitable.

If Marinette has learned anything since discovering Adrien’s secret, it’s that the universe has put this in the workings since the very beginning. It was always meant to happen, and Marinette scolds herself for putting it off for so long.

This is the thought that gives her the confidence to bring Adrien home, and when she passes through the skylight above her bed, she can’t help but think of how it symbolizes all the other thresholds they have crossed together.

She drops down one more level so they’re both standing in the middle of her bedroom. She doesn’t know what she expects Adrien’s face to look like, or how he’ll react, but she knows she has to be finished fearing rejection. There are more important things.

Adrien doesn’t even take more than a look around the room. It clicks instantly.

“Marinette,” he says in a voice that is anything but simple. Marinette doesn’t let herself dwell on what emotion that tone exudes.

“Spots off,” she says.

She sees the flash of pink from behind her closed eyelids. When she opens her eyes, she is acutely aware of the fact that she’s looking at Chat Noir as herself now, and not some persona hidden safely behind a mask. She doesn’t feel nearly as naked as she thought she would.

Tikki’s presence next to her gives her more security.

“You made the right choice too, Marinette,” her kwami whispers.

“Marinette,” Adrien says again as he takes a step forward.

Marinette can’t look at him. She rubs the side of her arm, trying to make herself as small as possible. “I’m sorry, Adrien.”

Whatever she expects—Adrien being angry, shocked, confused, so grossed out by actually being in love with Marinette the whole time that he storms off and leaves her alone—his reaction is none of the above.

Two gloved hands cup her face, and she has no choice but to look up at Adrien. She sees a glimpse of a huge smile before Adrien dips down and kisses her, and somehow it feels like they’ve both been waiting for it for a long time. Marinette closes her eyes into the kiss. Adrien feels such a rush because of the kiss—and she so weakened by it—that they actually walk backward together until Marinette has to support herself with one hand clutching the edge of her desk. The other hand slides into Adrien’s hair to make sure he doesn’t leave.

“Claws in,” Adrien murmurs against her lips.

There’s another flash, and Marinette dares to feel for one of his hands on her face, where gloves no longer separate their skin.

When Marinette breaks the kiss, she opens her eyes to Adrien. No mask, no ears, just beautifully flushed cheeks and deep green eyes.

Adrien giggles, and the sound grows until he’s all-out laughing at the absurdity that is their lives. Marinette can’t help but join in, and she rests her head against Adrien’s chest. Arms wrap around her and hold her close.

“You don’t even look that surprised,” Marinette points out.

“I’m not going to lie, I had my suspicions,” Adrien admits.

Marinette lifts her head and gawks wide-eyed at him. “Are you kidding me? What gave it away?”

“Not many girls in Paris have such cute freckles.” Adrien pecks her nose. “And you and Ladybug have a matching set.”

Marinette shakes her head, but she also laughs. “And me maybe being Ladybug didn’t change the way you felt about her?”

“It made my life a whole lot easier, actually.”

Adrien pulls her in for another kiss. Marinette’s arms wind around his neck, and when they part, she still hangs on to him.

“As much as I love this,” she starts, twirling a strand of hair at the back of Adrien’s neck, “we should get some rest. We still have a lot to figure out.”

“We do.” Adrien presses their foreheads together, and they breathe each other in. “And we’ll do it the same way we do everything.”

“As a team?” Marinette asks.

“Always.”

He laces their fingers together and pulls her up to bed.

* * *

The dust has cleared.

The Agreste mansion has been patched up for the most part, but there is still a gaping hole in the floor of the foyer that leads into Mr. Agreste’s mysterious basement.

Ladybug and Chat Noir hold hands as they descend to the dark sub-level.

The catwalk bears a path that was covered in debris just a few days prior. At the end of the catwalk is a single spotlight shining down on a grassy oasis.

Adrien gasps at the sight of his mother, asleep in the white contraption. Marinette squeezes his hand.

Two figures stand in front of Mrs. Agreste’s body. Nathalie watches the superheroes approach.

The other figure, dressed in purple, slowly turns around to face the oncommers with an expression Marinette has never seen on the man.

“Adrien,” Hawkmoth says, sad, broken.

“Father,” Adrien acknowledges.

“I am in desperate need of your help.”

**Author's Note:**

> ladybug and chat noir use their powers to grant hawkmoth's wish, they bring emilie back to life, gabriel no longer has a reason to be evil, adrien gets his mom back, and they all live happily ever after the end


End file.
